An unfitting disaster
by MonumentForTheDead
Summary: She wasn't a bad person... But maybe being judged through a lifetime can stir and rise some feelings inside of us. Some feelings we don't always wish, or we can't always control.


**Look who's back! Yayy ^^ **

**After a looooong absence of holidays and finally starting college, I decided to write this little fic as a tribute to the new Cinderella movie!**

**This time told by the not-so-usual point of view of Drizella; one of the most misunderstood characters from Disney, at least in my opinion... Ever since I was a child I always pitied both sisters, and I don't think they deserved that ending. **

**Also, some sisterly love in this story because I think they love each other as much as Elsa loves Anna. And a little mention to the original fairy tale, because I watched Into The Woods recently and I think the ending of the original Cinderella is way too creepy and awesome to ignore. **

**Finally I hope you all enjoy it!**

* * *

All my life, ever since I can remember, we were considered as one.

I actually don't even remember living my life without her, she was always by my side; the little girl who frequently tugged at the sleeves of my dress whenever she wanted to tell me something; she would lean over and whisper blatant secrets and idle gossip in my ears, and we both would giggle and point without any kind of discretion. We would sing out loud with each other; some out of tune improvised song that made us laugh like hyenas, and we would dance clumsily, spinning until we both fell on the floor, exposing our bloomers; a habit that normally granted us scolding looks from our mother. And we would eventually sleep together, whenever one of us had a nightmare, or when it was too cold to sleep alone; I would hug her tightly, delighting myself in the warmness of the bed, trying to sync my breath with hers before I could fall asleep.

Our relationship wasn't always giggles though; she, more often than not, would push me roughly to the side whenever we had to share the same space, also snatching things from my hands without asking for permission, showing me the tongue and a variety of other bad-mannered gestures; we would argue and stop speaking with each other for a few hours. We were always like that; always competing, always fighting, but somehow always getting along and apologizing at the end of the day. I love her, although it doesn't really look like so… I guess it's my fault anyway, I don't really like to show affection that much, I think mother sees it as some kind of weakness; she is quite affectionate and polite towards others, particularly when they are important people – men especially – but she's rarely affectionate towards me. Towards us.

I've always been the most stubborn one, the most difficult to deal with; my sister was the clumsiest, but somehow easy to teach and discipline; she's very willful as well, but never as much as me. I guess I'm just impossible and unfitting; I often get this kind of judgment, I've learn to spot it in the people's eyes... Not to mention ugly as a troll, as some people already told me; eyes too close together, a nose so pointy I could stab someone in the eye if I got too close, lips as thin as a line, and a face that's just way too round to match the rest of my features.

My sister gets this kind of treatment too, being called ugly a normal thing to her as well, "the two ugly ducklings", people tend to say, in mocking tones, but I guess she's more likeable, since she's younger, people tend to have the idea that they can still mold her to fit the patterns of society. We get this judgmental and critic look from my mother too, sometimes I feel she thinks of me as a burden; after all according to her, the most important thing in life is to get an influential husband, and she knows I'm just unable to achieve such task. My sister, being more vulnerable to mother's unyielding and critic eye, convinced herself that mother hated us, but especially her, for being incapable to do anything right. It took me a long time, but I managed to convince her otherwise; I know our mother loves us, not in the most motherly and conventional way, but I know she does. She wouldn't spend that much of a time trying to teach us good manners if it wasn't for our own good. In her own special way, I'm certain she cares about our future.

She tries hard every day to teach us something useful, she tried to teach me how to sing and my sister to play the flute – it always ends in terrible results – tried to teach us how to dance – I somehow move accordingly, but I often have to practice with my sister, and she's an utter disaster in it, therefore we always end up on the floor, bundled up in our own skirts, like we used to do when we were younger; but this time there is no laughter, rather embarrassment, while mother looks at us with a sneer on her lips. When this happens, my sister tries to smile at me, a reassuring glimpse trying to tell me that she's sorry, that everything is going to be okay; but I know it won't. I know that as the years go by, as we get older and clumsier, we get less and less eligible; our future slips from our fingers so quickly we can almost feel it.

We never received praising and admiring looks during our childhood, but I guess it all got worse when _she _arrived in our lives. The blonde-haired, blue-eyed wonder, the always so gracious, so pretty, so perfectly flawless; Cinderella. I hated her right in the first time I laid my eyes upon her, when we were presented to each other. My newest stepfather smiled and told us he hoped us to be the very best of friends, then the wonderful girl smiled at me and my sister, a smile so radiant, honest, captivating and contagious I almost threw up. My face twisted itself in a sneer of hate, despise and envy, and my mother, noticing my gesture, squeezed my hand almost painfully, which made me open a little forged smile towards Cinderella, my new stepsister, my worst nightmare.

Time passed away, so did her father; the wonderful little girl, who once was all smiles and kindness suddenly lost her light, and fell into sadness. I quickly discovered that I'd rejoice every time she cried, and humiliating and teasing her would bring me a sort of happiness so sick and disturbing I almost feared myself. After all, I wasn't a bad person, I'd never hurt anyone… But that was before she came into my life, before the envy and the hate was installed in my heart, and the only thing that made me genuinely smile was to see her suffer.

I could see that my mother and my sister shared the same feelings as mine towards Cinderella; soon enough mother placed her in the role of the servant of the house, instructing us to boss her around and make her do all the possible chores we could think of. Of course I found the changes placed upon the house to be lovely and I took the task of bossing my stepsister wholeheartedly. Soon enough I was treating her no better than a slave, and I enjoyed every minute of it.

But even the act of subjugating Cinderella couldn't hide her beauty, which only excelled even more as the years passed by. Soon she became a gorgeous young woman, while the only thing that excelled in me was my anger and frustration. I didn't know I was capable of despising someone so much as I despised her, having the urges to strangle her whenever she passed by me or entered in my room to fetch the laundry. I wanted to destroy her beauty as much as I wanted it for myself. It came a time when I refused to see my own refection in mirrors, having shattered mine and forcing my stepsister to clean the mess. I was hardly recognizing myself anymore.

* * *

It all got worse after the ball. The biggest celebration I've even been to; the castle so grand and splendorous I even managed to forget my usual hostility for a moment… After all, it was all so beautiful, the music so joyful… Apparently the reason of such ball was because the King himself was looking for an eligible young woman to marry his son. Imagine the greatest dream of any girl in the kingdom… To become a princess! I allowed myself to daydream about that ball; I dreamed that the prince would choose me; we would fall in love, marry and live happily ever after. But I knew such things would only remain in my imagination… The prince would probably choose a girl like Cinderella; a perfect girl, in every possible way.

Our mother had such faith in us, almost as if it was a matter of life and death. We had one clear task we had to fulfill; impress the prince – or any member of the royal court if that was possible. But of course, when we approached His Royal Highness and curtsied, all he did was giving us a little bow, cringe at us and try to deceive a yawn. Then we were thrown away with the rest of the eligible girls the moment that lady arrived.

She was magnificent; dressed in a sparkly silver dress, so ethereal that she seemed to fly like a swan over the room. I didn't get to see much of her face, but I was certain she was wonderful, because the prince completely ignored the rest of the court and went straight in the direction of that girl, like he was hypnotized or something, and just like that they began to dance and I'm sure they stayed together for the rest of the night.

When I set my eyes on the dancing couple - like the rest of the ball was doing before they went to the gardens – I felt my heart being squeezed painfully inside my chest; suddenly, the light green dress that I adored so much seemed bland, tasteless and poor, and the green feather on my head looked ridiculous. So ridiculous that I had to hold on the urge to pull it off and destroy it right in the middle of the ball. I looked over my shoulder, and there was my sister, meeting my gaze full of bitterness, all dressed in pink with a feather on top of her head as well.

We looked like two clowns.

And all I wanted was to tear off that pink dress out of my sibling, destroy it completely, like we did just a few hours ago with our step-sister' dress. I wanted to go home; I wanted to cry over the failure that night had been. But then again, it was just another failure to the eyes of society, just another failure to the eyes of our mother.

* * *

I couldn't sleep that night; I tossed and turned, haunted by my own tears that I refused to shed and by the memory of the prince's face; the look he laid upon us both was of utter disinterest and even disgust, although perfectly conceived by years of lessons on good behavior… After we curtsied, he yawned like we weren't even there, and everybody at the ball looked at us like we were some kind of outcasts, two creatures pampered in fancy dresses, beads and feathers. But the worst part was surely the young lady that danced with him all night; so flawless I started to hate her right away; a familiar kind of hate; the kind I used to spare only for my stepsister; the kind of hate so intense and so mixed with envy it can even manage to make me sick.

I don't even know with whom I was madder at; the prince and the people on the ball, or myself, for always being such a disaster.

My mother woke me up abruptly in the early morning, shaking my shoulders and almost screaming my name. I opened my eyes, exhausted, but I knew it wouldn't be wise to turn to the other side and fall asleep again, not with my mother in such state of anxiety as she was. I got up still half asleep and followed her to my sister's bedroom, which was being awakened the same way I was.

"_Get up Anastasia!" _She shook my sister until she finally emerged from the ocean of sheets and blankets.

"_What for…?"_ She yawned, unconsciously granting me a little space on her bed when I sat next to her.

"_Oh, everyone is talking about it, the whole kingdom!"_ Mother opened the curtains abruptly, bathing the room in sunlight. I squeezed my eyes shut and rested my head against my sister's shoulder, almost falling asleep again. "_Hurry now, they'll be here in a minute"_

"_Who will?"_ I asked, trying to keep myself awake, barely noticing when Cinderella entered the room with the usual tray with our breakfast.

"_The Grand Duke! He's been hunting all night"_ Now mother was rushing towards Anastasia's wardrobe, flipping through innumerous pieces of clothing. I've never seen her so restless before, usually she was the one to always remind us to have self-control…

"_Hunting?"_

"_For that girl! The one who lost her slipper at the ball last night, they say he's madly in love with her"_

"_The Duke is?"_ Anastasia asked while pushing my head off her shoulder, but having little success in keeping me away.

"_Oh no, the Prince!"_ Mother exclaimed, her green eyes sparkling madly at us, probably wanting to throw a bucket of cold water on us to see if we would finally awake.

But no water was necessary, since the loud cracking noise by the doorway made us three jump in surprise; Cinderella was standing there, numbly; the tray and the shattered porcelain lying at her feet, her hands still outstretched ridiculously in the air, like she was still holding something.

"_You clumsy little fool! Clean that up… and then help my daughters dress"_ My mother said in a venomous tone of voice. A chill ran down my spine as I heard her; I knew she could be as vicious as me when it came to her stepdaughter.

"_What for? If he's in love with that girl why should we even bother?"_ Anastasia mumbled, turning around and covering herself again with the blanket; I couldn't help but mimic her actions, dropping my head on her pillow.

"_Now you two listen to me!"_ The next thing to be felt was the blanket being pulled off from us, dislocating a huge amount of air, which made me shiver._ There's still a chance that one of you can get him"_

"_One of us? But mother what do you mean…?"_ We spoke in unison, looking baffled at each other then returning our gaze to mother; I still wasn't getting everything clearly.

"_Just this: no one not even the prince knows who that girl is. The glass slipper is their only clue._" Mother said, her voice just above a whisper, leaning over the bed and piercing us with her calculated gaze. _"Now the duke has been ordered to try it on every girl in the kingdom, and if one can be found whom the slipper fits, then by the king's command, that girl shall be the prince's bride!"_

All I felt in the next moment was Anastasia jumping out of the bed, completely awake, and with such fire inside her that could only be matched with her flaming red hair. I found myself jumping too, caught up in her energy, quickly gathering several dresses, corsets, shoes and sashes, only to place it all in Cinderella's arms, which still remained outstretched like before.

* * *

Some hours had passed and there I was, caught myself looking hopelessly at my own reflection in a mirror; dressed in a casual-but-still-elegant green dress, fixing my signature blue bow on top of my head and feeling like the most stupid human being on Earth. It was exactly what my sister had said before; "If he's in love with that girl why should we even bother?" Even if the slipper did fit on me, what would happen next? The girl who lost her shoe at the ball was exquisitely beautiful, and I'm sure the Duke wouldn't be daft enough to think I was such girl.

I sighed, applying some powder on my face before my sister pushed me violently to the side, in order to look at herself in the mirror. My sister was so strong-willed I wouldn't doubt she would be able of cutting her own toes or heels to fit her enormous feet in the slipper. But even with such sacrifice I wondered if she could feel same way as I did; I wondered if she considered this afternoon a prelude of a major catastrophe, I wondered if she felt hopeless, disastrous…

So terribly unfitting.

* * *

**There you have it my lovelies; what did you think of this fic? (I'm personally a little disappointed with this ending, but anyways...) **

**Do you like it? Hate it? Please feel free to review and PM me, for all suggestions and constructive criticism is welcomed!  
**

**Thank you so much for reading!**


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